Theres no way back, ive tried therapy and shit, im to far gone i think im losing it, i cant sleep,cant rest, till i get it off my chest, bless, i guess im just a clean young mess, at best, im a happy go lucky young dude, at worst, im the type to take a piss on your shoes, what a curse, a jekyl and hyde inside a young mind, fuck it, im even dramatised in my right mind, i write rhymes, trying to desypher what im going through, ive lost a lot a weight and my ribs are showing through, im a poor man, i aint got a pot to take a piss in, listen, i think a few screws went missing, and rhymes in my mind are drying up like a fogey, like i need k.Y to let the poetry, flow free, i aint right so exuse my diction, i need to see a shrink about my writing addiction....